The Key to Connor:
Chapter 3
By Rhi
Disclaimer: I don't own them
Spoilers: This follows Ats ep "Forgiving" and contains spoilers thereto.
Distribution: Sure, just let me know.
Feedback: Is always nice. DarkRhiannon@aol.com
Rating: NC-17 with warnings for language, pain and angst.
The only thing that kept the moment from being absolutely perfect, and
thus deadly was Angel's overwhelming worry about getting back through the
Gate in time. Quickly, he wrapped Connor in his dirty blankets and sprinted
out of the pathetic little dwelling. Picking up speed, he loped back toward
the Gate, praying with every ounce of his being that he could get his son
there in time.
The miles stretched on in an unending stream, torturing his already
tired body to the breaking point. His consolation, his joy, his sole purpose
now rested safely in his arms, a bit grumpy at the jostling, but cooing
contentedly nonetheless at finally being back in his father's strong arms.
Angel smiled down at his son, grateful for any chance to hold him once
again.
He gave the skeletal tree-things a much wider berth this time, taking
no chances with his baby boy. Climbing through the rocky terrain, he saw
the telltale glow of the Gate in the far distance and hurried towards it.
As he approached he saw that the energy field was waning, a sure sign
that whatever was powering it was running out of force. He jumped headlong
into it, clutching Connor to him with gentle strength, now worried about
the effects of such travel on his boy. God only knew what the warped energy
that the boy had now been exposed to twice might do to his developing brain.
Angel prayed harder and arrived back in the lobby of the Hyperion with
a thud that he turned into a graceful roll, coming to his feet with Connor
unharmed in his strong hands.
*
Spike lurked in a dark corner of the Hyperion hotel, pacing restlessly
back and forth and chain-smoking with no regard for ashtrays or the polished
marble floor. This was taking too long and he had never had the patience
of his sire. Angelus would plot for years to destroy prized prey…torturing
and maiming first one loved one, then the next until the poor unfortunate
felt damned and despondent. Only then, when he'd utterly destroyed the
person, would Angelus feed. He claimed that nothing tasted better than
despair in the blood.
Personally, Spike thought he was crazy. Spike liked his blood spiced
with sex or violence…preferably both at the same time. Pheromones gave
it a great kick combined with adrenaline. Slayers practically reeked of
both when you fought them…it was why he'd sought them out.
Suddenly he felt a change in the pressure surrounding the glowing Gate.
He looked up and growled as a dark mass took shape within the scintillating
energy. With a huge boom and a rush of foul-smelling air from…somewhere…Angel
appeared in all his flowing black-dustered glory. He knelt for a moment
in the center of the gate, then rose, clutching a squalling dirty infant
to his broad chest and grinning as if he hadn't a care in the world.
Fred rushed forward grabbing Angel and hugging them with all her might.
"You're back. But…" she paused in worry, "how is Connor?"
Angel smiled happily down into her pretty face. "Connor is fine, Fred,"
he held her close, glad of her gentle presence in their lives. "Do you
want to hold him?" he passed Connor carefully to Fred and she carried him
to Gunn and Lorne.
"Spike, what are you doing here?" Angel growled at his childe, worried
now that yet another enemy had appeared.
"Don't get your knickers in a twist, Sire. I'm not here for you, I'm
here for my Slayer. Now get your poncy ass upstairs and help me get her
out of the bloody fucking Gate she created to save your sorry ass." Spike
turned and ran up the stairs not bothering to look behind to see if Angel
followed him.
Angel stared after his childe in confusion, then followed, suddenly
afraid of what he might find upstairs. Now that his mind was clear of worry
for Connor, at least for the moment, he smelled the telltale scent of Buffy's
powerful blood. Suddenly a horrific scream came from above and he sprinted
to the stairs, taking them four at a time to get to the pained source of
the cries.
*
With what little life remained to her, Buffy felt Angel's familiar presence
surge through the Gate she held open. Finally she could let go. She screamed,
allowing all the pain and anguish caused by the dread magics ripping her
life-energy from her body to escape in the terrible cry. The Gate collapsed
around her, its energy snapping back into her helpless figure like a bolt
of lightening. She convulsed in torment, the spikes ripping new gashes
in her limbs where they had almost healed. Her scream turned into a feeble
moan as she gasped for breath, trying to hold onto some semblance of life.
Spike heard the Slayer's scream and felt the energy snap into her as
the Gate collapsed. He kicked open the door, raced to Buffy's side and
stopped, nonplussed by the damage she had taken holding the Gate open for
his damned sire.
Buffy's face was ashen, nearly all blood drained from it, leaving her
almost translucent. Her short blond hair lay stiffly clumped in brown dried
blood. Her slender body looked as if the life had been sucked out of it.
Gaunt and stricken, she raised suffering eyes to the vampire who loved
her. "Spike," she whispered, "Did Angel…"
"Yeah. He's back. Brought the little nipper with him, safe and bloody
sound. Gods, Slayer, look at you." Spike's deep blue eyes filled with tears.
"How could you let them do this to you, Buffy," he whispered brokenly,
kneeling by her side and stroking the sticky blood-stained hair from her
face with loving fingers.
Angel rushed into the room, stopped dead in his tracks and cried out,
"Buffy, oh, god, no! Spike, you bastard, did you do this to her?" he growled,
reaching for his childe.
Spike growled back at his sire and stood between him and Buffy. "You
stupid, bloody ponce. I love her, you think I'd do this to her? No, she
let those bastards from Wolfram and Hart crucify her to open that damned
Gate for you. She used her own life and blood to hold it for you the whole
damn time you were gone." He turned back to his love and knelt again. "Look
what they've done to her, oh Buffy, Luv!" He sobbed her name in hopeless
anguish, sure that even the Slayer's extraordinary strength couldn't heal
these horrific wounds in time.
Angel knelt by her other side and stroked her face gently. She turned
suffering eyes to him and blinked dazedly into his handsome face. "A-Angel?"
she whispered in that half-questioning way she'd always said his beloved
name. "I-is the baby all right? Did I keep the Gate open long enough?"
her voice trembled with pain as she struggled to stay conscious.
"Yes, Beloved. You saved my son. You saved me. I can never thank you
enough for what you've done. Spike," Angel looked at him commandingly.
"Hold her arm steady. I'm going to pull these spikes out and try to staunch
the bleeding." Angel ripped his duster off and tore his shirt from his
back, shredding it into strips. He grasped the spike in Buffy's left hand
while Spike held her arm and fingers down as gently as he could.
Angel pulled the spike from her with one heave, tossing it away from
him as she screamed in renewed pain. Her torn hand gushed fresh blood from
the gaping wound in its center. Angel quickly padded it with fabric, then
wrapped it tightly with another strip from his shirt. He nodded at Spike
and they performed the same dread service for Buffy's right hand.
They moved down to her feet and Spike hissed with fury as he saw the
damage the spikes had done to the delicate bones there. It would take a
miracle for the girl to ever walk again, he thought and looking into Angel's
dark tormented eyes, he knew his sire was thinking the same thing. Angel
shook his head at Spike and grabbed the spike, ripping it from his soul-mate's
broken body with a fierce pull. He wrapped her foot as gently as he could,
wincing at her barely audible moan. *She can't even scream anymore,* he
thought. *We've got to get her to a hospital now.* They worked in tandem
to remove the last of the spikes from Buffy's other foot and Angel wrapped
it painstakingly.
Spike grabbed up Angel's duster and laid it on the floor next to the
dying Slayer. He cradled her gently in his arms, wrapping the duster around
her and rising in one lithe motion. He looked at Angel with anguished eyes,
tears pouring down his chiseled face. "Where's the nearest bloody hospital,
Sire?" he choked out.
Angel stared at him, amazed at the love pouring from his childe for
the tiny girl nestled in his arms. "I'll take you there myself, let's go."
They ran from the room and Angel spared a quick thought for Connor, who
was cooing in Fred's arms and slurping hungrily at a bottle. "Gunn, Lorne,
protect them. We've got to get Buffy to a hospital. I'll be back as soon
as I can."
They raced towards the hospital and Angel listened in shock to his childe
crooning to the broken Slayer in his arms. "Hold on, Pet. We're almost
there. Don't you dare die on me again, Slayer, so help me, I'll kick your
bloody arse. I'll turn you myself…somehow…if you even try to get away.
Please, Luv, hang on just a bit longer. You've been so brave, so strong,
just hold on, Baby." His voice broke in anguish as he stroked the wasted
face of the woman he loved with all his unbeating heart.
Buffy could barely focus on Spike's soft voice. She'd done her job.
Given her gift again. She could rest now, couldn't she? She was just so
tired. So very very tired.
Angel could feel her letting go, preparing to escape them yet again.
"Buffy," he said sharply, "Buffy, don't let go. You have to fight for a
while longer, Beloved. You can't go yet, your work isn't finished here.
What about Dawn and Willow and Xander? You can't leave them alone on the
Hellmouth. They need you. *We* need you. Spike…Spike loves you Buffy. What
will happen to him if you leave?" His voice cracked with grief. "I need
you, Buffy. Please. I was wrong. I need you in my life. We'll find a way…together…somehow.
Just please don't leave me again." Tears streamed from his face as they
pulled up to the ER entrance.
Spike leapt from the car with Buffy in his arms, praying with everything
in him that they could still save her.
*
Doctors, nurses and orderlies ran through the hallways of the ER like
ants. They'd taken Buffy from Spike and carted her off to a sterile room
without another word to either of the vampires. Spike sat and played with
his cigarettes while Angel brooded.
"So you and Buffy have been…?"
"Yah. Doesn't love me though. Said she was just usin' me. Said it was
killin' her. Then she left me."
"Oh."
"S'not her fault, you know. You lot all left her. First you, then that
Parker twat, then Captain Cardboard, then her watcher. And oh, don't forget
her dad and mum. And rippin' her out of heaven. Chit's got no one left.
Red spaced out on magic, Bug Boy fucked up his own wedding. I was just
there…in the dark with her. Convenient."
"But you love her."
"Course. How could I not?"
"I know. I thought…for a while…Cordelia…but she's with Gru now."
"Who the bloody hell is Gru? Sounds like a vomitous disease."
"He's a champion from another dimension. She was his princess there."
"Oh. You never could manage a normal relationship, could you, Sire?"
Angel growled and gazed at his shoes. "What she went through for me,
Spike. God, what if she dies?"
Spike winced and looked away from his sire's too-knowing eyes. "She
can't. Won't happen. She's the Slayer. Just needs a few weeks to get back
on her feet." He winced again, thinking of Buffy trying to go back to work
at DoubleMeat on those tortured feet. "Pet's not gonna be able to work
at that godforsaken place anymore. Guess I'll have to get a job. Prove
I can do something on the up and up."
Angel looked amazed. "You? You're going to get a job? A real…Spike…can
you actually *do* anything besides fight and steal?"
"'Dunno. Never tried since you turned me. Guess I'll find out."
"Look," Angel paused, then continued on firmly, "Angelus had…I had money
stashed away in London and Paris. I never used it after the curse…it had
blood all over it. But for Buffy. Well, she deserves it. I'll get it wired
from one of my accounts."
"Don't want your pity money, Sire. I can take care of her myself. I
have been since she came back." Spike bristled at his sire's well-meaning
offer.
"It's not for you, Spike. It's for her. I…I can't be in her life, at
least not the way I want to be. I have to stay here and take care of Connor
and try to make sense of the things the PTB want from me. But I can't be
totally withdrawn from her either. She's the only one I've ever loved and
I need to see her…to know that she's alive, even though I can't be with
her. Please, Spike. Let me do this. Please."
"All right. Not like I have much say in it anyway. She turned me away.
Like always."
"I've seen the way she looks at you, Spike. She cares. She just doesn't
want to admit it. Give her some time. Be there for her. Take care of her
for me." Angel looked beseechingly into his childe's eyes.
Spike nodded. "Will do. Shouldn't you be getting' back to that little
nip now? Wouldn't want my baby brother to get kidnapped again," he added
snarkily with a slight smile.
Angel smiled back, "Gods, I never thought of it that way. Heaven help
him with you as a big brother!"
"Hey, no worse than you as a Sire! Daddy!" Spike smirked at him. "Bet
you look just dandy with spit up all over those poofy black silk shirts.
Wish I could see it myself."
"Well, maybe you could stay with us while Buffy is here in the hospital?
It's going to take a long time for her to recover."
"Sure. Stock up on the blood though. I haven't eaten in two days. Me
tum's killing me."
"Call me as soon as you hear anything. Please, Spike."
"Will do, Sire."
Angel strode from the ER, considering what he needed to do to keep his
little family safe now that they were back together again.
*
Buffy was warm. Warm and woozy and floating in a sea of peaceful calm.
Nothing hurt anymore…she couldn't feel her arms or her legs. She felt as
if she'd been wrapped in cotton and set adrift on a peaceful tide. *Mmm
nice,* she thought dreamily, then dove back down into the dark of healing
Slayer sleep.
*
Cordy and Gru strode through the doors of the Hyperion as fast as they
could and stopped dead at the sight greeting them. Gunn was diapering Connor
on the middle of Angel's leather sofa. Baby lotion, wipes and diapers surrounded
the large black man as he sang to Connor in a deep voice. "Hush little
baby, don't you cry…Gunn is gonna sing you a lullaby…" he broke off in
embarrassment as they approached. Cordy grabbed him and hugged him tight
to her.
"Gunn, I saw you die, saw Angelus kill you and Fred and Buffy…God it
was awful. What happened?"
"It’s a long story, darling," Lorne drawled from the office. "Why don't
you and Grusalag come sit down and Uncle Lorne will tell you the whole
tale?"
The end.
Author's Note: All right, I was visited in my dreams last night by
an extremely brassed off Slayer, a furious, suddenly chipless blond vampire
and a very angry Angelus. He tortured me (and not in a good way:-P) until
I recanted my previous ending. So here's what I'm going to do. Chapter
5 (which I still think, as a mom, makes the most sense because really what
else could make Angel truly happy than holding Connor safely in his arms
again…and we all know what happens when Angel is truly happy) will be the
angsty/horror ending. Chapter 2...the angsty/fluffy/B/A ending and Chapter
4...the angsty/fluffy/smutty B/A/S ending (so that Buffy, Spike and Angel
stop yelling at me. You guys can each pick which ending you want to read
as the "real" one. Ok? *Rhi winces, praying not to be visited by spike-bearing
vampires in her dreams tonight...*
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